


Girl, ya can't conceal it (we know how ya feel and who you're thinking of)

by tryalittlejoytomorrow



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy being a mythology nerd, Bellamy being great with kids, Fluff, and Clarke totally digging it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 00:32:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3549356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryalittlejoytomorrow/pseuds/tryalittlejoytomorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She refuses to name it, the fluttering in her belly, the heat rushing to her cheeks, the sheer fondness in her eyes as she gazes softly at him because this is completely ridiculous. She is not one of these girls who get flustered over a man with a child – she’s just not. And, really, it’s one of these things she’s heard women gush over that Clarke’s never fully understood.</p><p>That is, until she sees Bellamy sitting around the campfire with some Grounder kids, the little ones engrossed in the story he’s telling, and Clarke knows she’s a goner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girl, ya can't conceal it (we know how ya feel and who you're thinking of)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alienor_woods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienor_woods/gifts).



> This is a silly, little fluffy thing I wrote for labonsoirfemme's birthday. It's short and I usually don't post short stories over, but, heh, whatever the hell I want, right?
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Title from...oh, let's be honest, you all recognized the song and you're probably singing it now, right? ;)

She refuses to name it, the fluttering in her belly, the heat rushing to her cheeks, the sheer fondness in her eyes as she gazes softly at him because this is completely _ridiculous_. She is _not_ one of these girls who get flustered over a man with a child – she’s just not. And, really, it’s one of these things she’s heard women gush over that Clarke’s never fully understood.

 

That is, until she sees Bellamy sitting around the campfire with some Grounder kids, the little ones engrossed in the story he’s telling, and Clarke knows she’s a goner.

 

Bellamy’s a big softie; that’s a _fact_. He’s strong and tough and reckless and more than a little intimidating when he needs to be, but he’s also the most caring person she’s ever met, all warm eyes and smile. And okay, she knows he raised Octavia – and did one hell of a job – so she should have expected him to be great with kids; but it’s _definitely_ _not_ the same thing to expect it and to _witness_ it.

 

“You can just go and listen to the story instead of staring at Bellamy like he’s grown two heads, Clarke,” Monty laughs, and Clarke’s head snaps back at him so quickly she winces.

 

“No, no, I’m good,” she assures her friend as she rubs a hand over her stiff neck, despite not remembering what Monty was talking about – moonshine or Jasper being ridiculous or Nate, probably. _Damn Bellamy_ for getting in her head like that.

 

Monty tilts his head and gives her that look that says _you’re not fooling anybody, girl_ , and she almost wants to scold him for it because the kids just can’t call her mom and then look at her like she’s a schoolgirl with a crush. Monty just chuckles at her scowl, and gently pushes her towards the fire with a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve gotta talk to Jasper anyway. Lexa asked if we could show them how to make moonshine, and you know Jasper. Can’t refuse anything if a pretty girl’s asking.”

 

Clarke starts protesting but Monty’s already gone, his laughter still ringing in her ears. Bellamy chooses that moment to lift his head up and he cocks an eyebrow at her in that concerned, _adorable_ way of his, and God, Clarke hates her brain for thinking things like this. She sighs before walking to him, and his frown melts and turns into a smile as the kids shift on the log to make room for her. “Clarke!” one of the little girls, Krista, beams at her as she grabs Clarke’s hand.

 

“Hey there,” Clarke replies softly, ever surprised that the children are so welcoming and affectionate with her. With Bellamy, she understands; he tells stories and gives pony rides and makes flower crowns, even gladly accepts to wear them. She remembers one day when he came back to camp with paint all over his face and still gave orders to the kids like everything was normal – and everybody did as he told, too stunned to question why their leader was covered in pink and orange. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Clarke says as she shyly chews on her lip.

 

“Of course not, Princess,” Bellamy says before he turns to the crowd of kids. “Who wants to tell Clarke what she missed?” It’s a sight to see, all the little kids bouncing on their seats, squealing “ _Me!_ ”, and Bellamy smiles fondly before nodding his head at a little girl. “Okay, you start, Cam.”

 

The little girl gives him a joyous smile. “It’s a story about a boy who needs to prove he’s strong and brave and kind to join his father who is a God in Olympus,” Camryn explains. “And to do that he needs to do lots of heroic things, and –“

 

“You didn’t tell her about the evil God who sent him to the Ground so he couldn’t be a god and defeat his evil plan to conquer the universe!” an older boy interrupts her before letting out a sigh that reminds Clarke so much of Bellamy when one of their kids says or does something stupid.

 

“And there’s a princess!” the little girl sitting on Bellamy’s lap, Saskia, swoons, and the boy rolls his eyes. Saskia’s no older than three, and Clarke thinks she’s a little bit in love with Bellamy; she shadows him every time they visit the Grounder village, and the feeling is mutual if the way Bellamy looks at her like she’s a beam of sunshine is any indication. Clarke has to admit it’s hard to resist her big, puppy blue eyes, chubby cheeks and contagious smile.

 

“But she’s a _brave_ princess,” Camryn adds with a glare to the boy, like she’s daring him to disagree with her. “Hercules tries to save her and she says _I'm a damsel, I'm in distress, I can handle this. Have a nice day_ ,” the Grounder girl mimics, hands on her hips and so much sass in her gaze Clarke can’t help laughing.

 

Krista cuddles against her side, propping her chin on her shoulder. “Just like you,” she says in awe, and Clarke feels herself blush.

 

When she looks up, Bellamy is staring at her and there’s a spark in his brown eyes that makes heat rush to her cheeks even more. Little Saskia’s eyes are jumping between the two of them, trying to understand what’s going on. “Yeah, Meg’s just like Clarke,” Bellamy agrees with a warm, _proud_ smile. “She doesn’t need a man to protect her.”

 

“But Hercules is a _hero_ ,” the boy, Bram, cuts in, and Clarke hadn’t realized until now that he was the only boy among the crowd of little girls surrounding Bellamy. “He’s a God!” he exclaims, waiting for someone to side with him.

 

Bellamy just grins, reaching out to ruffle Bram’s hair. “Just you wait until you grow up, Bram, and you’ll see that girls don’t need boys to save them. If they need a hero, that’s what they become.”

 

Bram looks at him with wide eyes. “Please don’t tell me there’s a kiss in this story,” the boy whines, visibly disgusted just at the very thought, and Clarke has the decency to hide her smile behind her hand because she remembers being eight or nine and Wells always wrinkling his nose when she kissed his cheek.

 

“There has to be a kiss!” Krista objects. “Bell!” she calls out to Bellamy with pleading eyes, her bottom lip sticking out in a pout. “Hercules and Megara are in love!”

 

Bram embellishes a gag, and Clarke laughs. “Maybe we could just listen to Bell now and see?” she suggests, and the kids all nod their heads, turning their attention back to Bellamy.

 

He quirks an amused eyebrow at her – _Bell, I’m Bell now, Princess?_ – and she rolls her eyes at him – _that’s how they call you, shut up and finish the story_. So he does, with sound effects and hand gestures, deepening and lightening his voice to the children’s delight. Bram squeals excitedly at Hercules’ every quest, and the little girls coo at Hercules and Megara’s growing love, until everybody – Clarke _and_ Bram included – holds their breath when Meg gets hurt trying to protect the boy she loves. Bellamy knows how to captivate an audience, Clarke can’t help thinking as the kids are hanging on the edge of their seats, listening to his every word; their kids do the same, one motivational speech from their leader all the inspiration they need sometimes.

 

“ _You’ve done it! You’re a true hero!_ ” Bellamy goes on, in his Zeus voice. “And Hercules’ mother smiles at him, oh so proud that he was willing to give his life to rescue Megara. For a true hero isn't measured by the size of his strength, but by the strength of his heart,” he concludes, and when all the little girls swoon, Clarke can’t deny she joins them.

 

And when he tells them that Zeus opens the gates to Olympus for Hercules, saying he can finally go home, _Bram’s_ the one interjecting, “But he can’t leave Megara behind!”

 

Clarke smiles at the boy’s outburst, he who seemed so disgusted by all the romantic aspect of the story until now. But when Bellamy speaks again, using his Hercules voice, she feels her heart flutter a little bit at the softness in his voice. “But a life without Meg, even an immortal life, would be... _empty_. I...I wish to stay on earth with her, Father. I finally know where I belong.”

 

“And then they kiss?” one of the girls asks, and even Bram looks excited now, waiting for Bellamy to confirm it.

 

Bellamy rolls his eyes a little bit, and then he nods. “And then they kiss, yeah,” he says, fond and amused by the kids’ antics, before he presses a kiss to the crown of Saskia’s hair. “Okay, now I think it’s time for bed, munchkins.”

 

The kids whine, begging for another story, and Clarke grins. “Come on now, I’m sure Bell will tell you another one tomorrow night. Right, Bell?” she calls, beaming at him.

 

A chorus of “ _Please, Bell!_ ” rings, and Bellamy pretends to think for a minute before Saskia pokes at his chest with her tiny hand. “Okay, okay, as the Princess wishes,” he whines, and then he puts the little girl back on the floor. “Come on, off to bed, now.”

 

The kids rush to their parents, some looking at Bellamy with a fond, yet a little exasperated look – no way they can make their kids go to bed when they’re so excited – and Clarke stands, only to go sit by his side. And then, before she can over think it, she presses a soft, little kiss to his cheek.

 

Bellamy’s head snaps so quickly he bumps his nose with hers. “What was that for?” he asks, and Clarke laughs a little at the look on his face.

 

“The princess and the hero always kiss in the end,” she answers with a shrug, like it’s a perfectly logical explanation.

 

Bellamy smirks. “Oh, so I’m a hero, now?” he teases, but Clarke can spot the faintest blush tinting his dark skin.

 

“You’re _definitely_ the princess here,” Clarke laughs again, and Bellamy just rolls his eyes before he muffles the amused sound with his mouth as he presses his lips against hers.

 

It’s soft and sweet and slow, like any true love’s kiss should be.

 

(When Monty announces proudly that he’s the reason why the princess and her knight finally kissed, their kids swoon even more than little girls.)

 

* * *

 

 

_**the end** _


End file.
